


Kokichi is Fine

by thegharden



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Pining, Slurs, Violence, he sucks at life, kinda boring but, kokichi is just trying to do his best, only come here if you want a kokichi-tastic fic, oumasai isn’t a big part of it tho, what are tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 21:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13726593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegharden/pseuds/thegharden
Summary: Kokichi was completely unaware of how much he had fucked up his own life.That is, until Kaito forced him to go to therapy.





	Kokichi is Fine

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fic i mostly wrote for myself, bc i haven’t seen many ppl portray kokichi as just a human living a human life and doing human things. they either make him a completely insane sociopath who loves himself or a completely insane sociopath who hates himself
> 
> basically, kokichi has fucked himself over and is trying to rectify that. he has to kinda dig up some shit he didn’t want to think about to do it though.
> 
> also, the most important relationship in this is def kaito n kokichi’s friendship. i love oumasai but u can’t beat the power of friendship!
> 
> my tumblr: https://blurrykomaeda-jpg.tumblr.com

**“I don’t need therapy.”**

Kokichi was glaring at Kaito from the couch. They only kept eye contact for a second, before Kokichi glanced back down at the open book in his hands, eyes darting along the page to find where he had left off. Kaito ceased to exist to the kid taking up all the space on his couch, merely a snack-hogging, weed-smelling, dick-acting illusion- a figment that Kokichi could wish away by sheer shunning force. Kokichi was annoyed with his insistence that he see a therapist about his ‘problems’. What problems? Being silly and unpredictable? Being mischievous and sneaky? These were just parts of his character, his _amazing personality_ , and he was sure that Kaito was being an idiot for suggesting someone get a shrink just because they’re a bit of a nuisance.

“I mean, it’s a lot different from the on-campus counsellor y’know? I just think it could be good for you.” Kaito said, adjusting himself against the wall, arms crossed. Kokichi didn’t even spare him a glance, because there was no need to. 

Kokichi could see the face Kaito was making without even looking, feel his furrowed brows and his gritted teeth. He was sure it was that one where he looks angry but also like he’s trying to support you- Kokichi’s least favourite face in the world! He let Kaito marinate in the silence for a bit, hoping maybe he would give up if he became unresponsive. 

Kokichi knew Kaito well, though, and that was a very unlikely outcome.

“Seriously, I don’t need it. I’ve gone before and it was just frustrating and pointless. Besides, it would be a waste of not only my time, but _their_ time; I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me.” Kokichi sighed after the silence became too loud and too dense to cut through. 

He wasn’t _technically_ lying about it being frustrating and pointless, but he didn’t mention the part where he was completely uncooperative and stubborn. For Kokichi, a therapist was his worst nightmare. Sure, it was fun to lie to them and get them all confused and pissed, but he wasn’t even sure if he was capable of taking it seriously. Him? Talking about his feelings? Being honest with someone? To help them figure out what label they could put on him? It sounded all kinds of scary. It was easy to convince himself that there was nothing wrong with him, hell, that was why he started lying in the first place! It was so easy to convince other people if you could convince yourself. Still, Kokichi knew that there were some skeletons in his closet (and under his couch _and in his toilet and **literally sleeping right next to him every night**_ ) that he didn’t want to confront at the moment. If he were to go to therapy and take it seriously, he would have to bring the skeletons out of his house and name them and discuss them over a drink and snacks, like some sort of fucked up tea party. It felt too personal.

“I mean, it was probably pointless because you were being a little shit again,” Kaito sounded exasperated, completely done with Kokichi’s antics, “but, bro to bro, I really think you should go.”

Kaito had made his way over to the couch and plopped himself down on the end opposite Kokichi. _God, he’s gonna keep pressing me, isn’t he?_ Kokichi really wasn’t in the mood for a heartfelt and entirely one-sided conversation at the moment, but he knew if he didn’t derail the friendship train right now then Kaito would try to **act** the part of his therapist. Keeping his eyes locked on the same sentence he had been reading over and over again, he huffed.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you think I have issues? That’s rude.” Kokichi taunted. He knew Kaito had meant no harm, but he desperately wanted this conversation to be over. It was uncomfortable for both of them and Kokichi really _did not_ want to get into anything too personal with him right now. 

“No, god, I mean... _Fuck_ , Kokichi, what am I supposed to say to that? You’re a pathological liar, emotionally detached from everyone around you, and you have so many dumbass walls put up that not even **I** know that much about you! How is that ‘not having issues’?”

Kaito struggled to find the right words to say. He pulled the book out of Kokichi’s hands, trying to make sure he was paying attention because this was serious and Kaito refused to let him turn this into another joke. He knew Kokichi was uncomfortable with how straightforward he was being, but that wasn’t his top priority at the moment. Kokichi just gave him a blank stare, and had Kaito not known him well, he would’ve assumed he was bored or annoyed. 

But Kokichi was surprised.

Actually, legitimately, really surprised.

_Fuck._

So he made a run for it and scrambled off the couch, falling on his ass multiple times in the process. Kaito watched in utter joy as Kokichi flailed around like some final girl in a horror movie, so panicked that he forgot which door led out of the dorm room. He let out a hearty laugh as Kokichi flung himself into a closet, because it was all so stupid and dumb and _hilarious_. At the threat of having to talk about his issues, Kokichi had actually just hid himself in a closet. What kind of world did Kokichi even live in to think that was acceptable behaviour?

“Is this you proving that you don’t have any issues? ‘Cause you’re doing a _great_ job, buddy.” Kaito chuckled, pulling a struggling Kokichi out of the closet. 

“Fine, I’ll go if it means you’ll let me go and stop pestering me about dumb shit that I don’t care about!” He gave up, wiggling his noodle arm in Kaito’s grasp. Kaito let go, and, after a second of silence, Kokichi laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation. Pushing past, he made his way back to the couch and made himself comfortable. At least Kaito was used to his antics at this point.

Kokichi put on a dumb horror movie and Kaito joined him.

* * *

**“Yeah, I’m 12.”**

Kokichi responded to his soon-to-be therapist after he had given him a confused look- this man treated young adults, not children, so seeing a short boy with childish features and **purple dip-dyed hair** must have been confusing.  
“Ah, sorry, that was a lie,” Kokichi sighed, giving himself a slap on the forehead, “I’m actually 20, I’m just used to saying that because it gets me cheaper tickets on the metro. I even have my ID with me if you want to make sure.” 

He felt like such an idiot. Did he really have to do this _now_?

His therapist’s name was Dr. Tsukawa. He was tall and probably in his early 30s, with warm brown eyes and tan skin. His bubbly personality helped Kokichi feel more comfortable and talkative, which was probably why he was suited for young adults. He was empathetic and kind, and he even laughed when he heard Kokichi had trouble controlling himself and keeping himself from lying on the spot. He had integrity. Every time Kokichi felt as though he wanted to lie, he thought about what Kaito said and how, well, _liberating_ this could be for him, and he found that having Dr. Tsukawa as his therapist was actually a great help.

Dr. Tsukawa told him to talk about some important lies he had told in the past, and pretty much any events Kokichi thought were important. He didn’t interrupt, and he didn’t question Kokichi. He sat and he listened, and it almost made him feel embarrassed. No one had ever been so interested and understanding and, most of all, patient with him.

* * *

**“It was just a cat.”**

14 years ago, Kokichi was having his 6th birthday party. He invited his whole 1st grade class, but only four other kids showed up. This didn’t bother him, as he was quite a shy kid. The four mostly talked and played amongst themselves, and Kokichi watched them from afar, waiting to be invited over. When that time never came, he brought out his secret weapon.

Kokichi’s cat was one of the cutest in the neighborhood, orange and fat with big green eyes. As soon as his friends saw him holding the cat and struggling to bring him over, they ran up to him. He held his head up with pride as they all praised his cat, hands on his hips and a smile plastered on his face, watching as they petted and cooed. Once the children had lost interest in the cat, he had successfully assimilated into the group, running around with them in their backyard and playing tag and hide and seek. He was having so much fun, much more than he thought he would have. By the end of the day, all the kids huddled together and made a friendship pact with him. He was thrilled to finally have friends.

Kokichi went back inside with his mom as all the other kids and their parents drove off. His mom hugged him and ruffled his hair and asked him about his time, like any mother would. She kissed him on the forehead and wished him a happy birthday, before turning him and telling him to go play outside. He smiled and nodded, hopping all the way to the front door and pushing it open.

Kokichi came back in only a few seconds later, face even more pale than usual and eyes wide and distraught. When his mom asked what was wrong, all he could do was point out the doorway. She was met with the sight of their cat, his orange and fluffy coat caked in blood, his body contorted and bent, and his green eyes glassy and open with fear. He was dead with one blow from a car, no doubt. Kokichi stood in the doorway as his mom went in and out to get a towel and a box to put him in. She told him not to look, the everything was gonna be okay, but all he could do was stand and stare blankly as the world just slid past him, like a speck of dust on a tv screen as scenes played around him, existing somewhere _just_ out of reach. He had a feeling the car that hit his cat was one of the ones that had come over for the birthday party (and this suspicion was the reason he never talked to any of them again).

They buried him in their backyard, and his mom held him close. Part of him wanted to cry, most of him was too numb to even feel anything, but the reigning part of him wanted to keep himself from _ever_ feeling this way again. So when his mom asked him if he was okay, he lied. 

“I mean, it was just a **cat**.”

* * *

**“I had a good day.”**

12 years ago, Kokichi had gone to his first day of 3rd grade. His mom packed his backpack for him and made him lunch, setting it in front of the door so that neither of them would forget. She woke him up earlier than usual, pulling his blankets off and making him go get ready for the day. He was excited, vibrating like children do. His mom drove him, and he continued bouncing in the backseat the whole way there. She didn’t get out of the car to walk him to the entrance, saying he was old enough to go on his own now. Though part of him was a bit scared now that his mom wasn’t with him, he was thrilled to be older and more responsible.

He greeted everyone he saw on his way over to the classroom, waving and smiling. His shyness has faded after making friends in 2nd grade, so he opened the classroom door with a big smile. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t about to go as well as he had hoped.

It was only the first day, so the teacher was mainly focused on playing icebreaker games with the kids. Kokichi enjoyed them a lot, learning everyone’s names and favourite things almost instantly. He blabbed a lot and tried to chat it up with everyone, and the first thing to go wrong was being told off by the teacher. Kokichi was a notorious goody-two-shoes, so hearing the teacher use a stern voice with him and hearing the giggle of the other students was extremely embarrassing.

Then, there came the insults. Kokichi, being the teacher’s pet, was finally going to be ridiculed for this. In 1st grade, everyone’s a teacher’s pet. in 2nd grade, you get made fun of for not being a teacher’s pet. Kokichi hadn’t got the memo that being a snitch and always on the teacher’s side was social suicide in the 3rd grade. He was minding his own business, eating his packed lunch, when he heard someone behind him call him a booger. Kokichi, not one for boyish roughhousing as a kid, clenched his fists into little balls of anger and shot the kid a look. It was the most popular kid in their class (because somehow 3rd graders can already have a most popular kid decided within the first few minutes of meeting each other the first day), taller than the rest of the kids, _handsome_ , and adored by all the girls. Kokichi fumed, biting into his sandwich like the not-booger he was.

He decided he didn’t like feeling angry, so he lied about it to himself. He told his head that Mr. Handsome was just _jealous and stupid_ , and that he himself was far superior to that dope of a boy. It calmed him down, and he felt relief wash over him. He was ashamed of his own pettiness as a child, so he hid it. But his emotion still sat there, festering in him since the day his cat had gotten hit by a car.

When his mom asked him how his first day went, he could only muster a lackluster response.

“I had a **good** day.”

* * *

**“I need time to grieve.”**

6 years ago, a friendless and bitter Kokichi tried to find any way out of school that he could. His mother was worried and was extremely intent on making him go to his weekly psychologist appointments. Kokichi didn’t want to be told what he felt and why he felt it because he already knew all that (though present-day Kokichi laughed at this, as 14 year old Kokichi was obviously a dumbass who knew _nothing about himself_ ). Basically, Kokichi couldn’t tell whether he hated himself, didn’t care about himself, or hated himself so much that he didn’t even **care** about himself. It didn’t even bug him that much, too tired to even bother with thinking about himself, so he just laid in bed all day.

He wasn’t depressed in the way most people might visualize when they hear the word ‘depressed’. He smiled and he laughed and he got angry, but his days were the same thing. Over and over. His sadness became a chore and his anger became a chore and everything kind of faded into each other until he couldn’t even tell if he could feel. Maybe this was depressed in the traditional sense of the word, but his skills in the art of lying had helped keep his feelings, or lack thereof, mostly under wraps.

I mean, when all you do is lie to yourself and dictate your own feelings, it’s difficult to discern what _is_ real and what _isn’t_.

So he tried to get out school whenever he could, because it was boring and it was pointless and he wasn’t someone that people liked. The day his grandfather died, he felt nothing. Maybe there had been a twinge of sadness, or at least empathy for his mom, but nothing personal. It was, however, a useful excuse that the school couldn’t refuse. He stayed home from the entire week of school. 

It may have not been a completely abnormal lie, or one that held any importance, but it was the one that helped him realise he had problems. It was the one that made him realise that he was closed off and detached and was simply faking so much of his emotions and reactions that it became second nature. 

He felt fake.

He _was_ fake.

He called the school up and told them.

“I’m sorry, I **need** time to grieve.”

* * *

**“Forget about it.”**

4 years ago, Kokichi came to terms with his sexuality. He had known he was gay for a long time, but in a country where people are taught to suppress that side of them it’s difficult to come to face it. Towards the end of his first year of high school, he had mustered up the courage to actually talk to someone about it.

However, this ‘someone’ was his _crush_.

And the ‘talk’ was a _confession_.

It was an upperclassman, just by a year. We’ll call him ‘K’ for ease. He was quiet, tall, brawny, and he wasn’t popular. It also helped that there were rumors going around about him being gay. Kokichi didn’t know him well, but he saw him enough to get the gist of him, and he had been eyeing him the whole year. It was his first proper crush, and he knew he had to either live with it or actually confront it. Kokichi, not one to back down, decided to confront it. 

And didn’t go as poorly as he had expected, to be honest.

He sent him an anonymous letter, telling him to meet the next day at a cafe that was practically on-campus, as it was right next to their school. He had spent the whole night before writing and rewriting, covering the envelope in stickers and other decor, almost manically. He would peel it off, and stick it wherever his finger landed, again and again until it looked like a toddler’s art project. He sighed as he looked down at it, nothing he could do to fix it now. He brought it to school the next day, a bit late to his first period so he could shove it through the letter slots without the risk of anyone seeing. He hoped the sweat on his hands didn’t leave stains on the envelope, and suddenly he was glad that he had covered it in an obscene amount of stickers, as it distracted from any possible discolouration.

Later, during the snack break, he peered down the hallway as students filed in and out, waiting to see if he was going to open his locker. Eventually, he showed up, and Kokichi felt his palms and his forehead go clammy as he saw the change in expression on K’s face when he picked up the letter. He chuckled a bit at the large amount of stickers ( _Kokichi was feeling light-headed and overwhelmed at the sight of it, as if his little laugh had crawled down Kokichi’s throat and was multiplying by the second, choking him_ ). Upon opening the letter, he looked a bit quizzical. Kokichi hoped his amusement wasn’t a bad thing, but he could only wait until tomorrow to see.

He woke up on the Saturday with a looming sense of dread- had he made the wrong decision? He curled up in his bedsheets, unsure of whether he should let himself wither away in them or get up and face the day. There wasn’t much he could do now except hope that K wouldn’t show up. And, Kokichi being the cunning kid he is, he always had an escape. He hadn’t _specifically stated_ anything romantic in the letter, so if he get scared he didn’t have to mention anything at all. He stayed in bed for a while, trying to stall the inevitable, until his meeting was only two hours away and he had to get up and get ready.

Kokichi stared at himself in the mirror- _I have to leave in ten minutes, and my bed head is completely hopeless_. He tried to force his hair down, but there was no holding it there. eventually, he gave up and walked to the bus stop, hair full of cowlicks. He spent the whole bus ride trying not to think at all, as whenever he let his brain wander his mind began doing dizzying cartwheels and lashing out at everyone around him. From punching random people on the train to imagining what it would be like to piss yourself in front of your crush, his mind **really** wasn’t doing him any favours. It must’ve been weird for the other passengers, watching what looked like a preteen pulling at his hair and occasionally slapping himself across the head. It was pathetic, but what a suitable word for Kokichi!

By the time he had gotten to the cafe, K wasn’t there yet. Kokichi made himself comfortable and ordered a tea. It came quite quickly, but Kokichi didn’t dare touch it- he was too warm and uncomfortable already.

It was 15 minutes past their meeting time, and Kokichi began to feel relief.

It was short-lived though, as soon the opening of the cafe door caught his attention. It was K, and Kokichi’s heart began to race and suddenly he needed to go the bathroom _was he actually going to pee himself wait no take a sip of tea act natural **please god just anything-**_

Kokichi heard the deafening crash echoing in his empty noggin before he had realised that his tea was all over the floor and so were shards of ceramic _oh god_. He immediately crouched on the floor and began picking up the pieces, trying to avoid touching too much of the hot tea. In his panic, he cut his palm on one of the glass pieces (failing to notice anyway). A waitress came over and helped him clean up, and K also made his way over. Kokichi’s face heated up because he was literally in the worst, most embarrassing situation you could ask to be in. Besides the _pee thing_ , of course. If a meteor fell from the sky and only hit him, he would be thankful for the opportunity. K gave him what seemed like almost a pitying smile as he helped the waitress mop up all the tea. Kokichi was stood up now, apologizing and forcing laughter. 

“Hey, uh... You’re bleeding?”

Was K talking to him? No, it couldn’t be. Definitely not.

“Like, it’s getting all over your shirt. Are you okay?”

Kokichi wondered who the lucky bleeder was, knowing that whoever they were would definitely get his help. He felt a napkin dabbing at the hand clutching his shirt, and he jumped back. _Huh?_

“Ah, sorry, did that hurt? You just weren’t responding and it was kinda hard to watch you just let your shirt get caked in your own blood.” K said, pulling his hand away from Kokichi’s own.

_**What?** _

“Oh! No, no, it’s fine! I thought you were talking to someone else!” Kokichi practically yelled right up at K’s face, cursing his naturally loud voice. He looked down at his hand, and saw that it was, indeed, covered in blood (along with his shirt). He let out a casual ‘huh’ at the sight.

“You should maybe clean that up in the bathroom.” K said, pointing to the bathroom doors. Kokichi nodded and walked off, feeling like a total idiot. He cleaned himself up, and dabbed at the wound until he was sure it wouldn’t bleed much more. He stared at himself in the mirror, his blotchy cheeks and messy hair not doing him any good. Maybe he could just hold up in here, hide forever and spend the rest of his life living amongst the soggy air fresheners until he died of old age.

He left the bathroom feeling even worse, and found K standing around awkwardly, looking at nothing in particular. Kokichi thought he was probably one of the cutest people he had ever seen. When K saw him approaching, his eyes lit up, as if his meaningless standing was suddenly given purpose.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” 

How did he know the letter was from Kokichi? He tried to make his letter as ambiguous as possible. Kokichi then realised that there were no other students from their school in the cafe, narrowing it down substantially. He sat back down, almost missing the seat and grabbing onto the unsteady table, a harsh nails-on-chalkboard sound coming from the legs of the chair scraping against the floor. K sat down as well, chuckling at Kokichi’s _“hey let’s all stare at the stupid idiot!”_ show.

“Well, I,” fuck, what was he supposed to say here? “I’m sure you know what I wanted to tell you.”

“I don’t want to assume anything, but... Did you want to ask me out or something? Because of the rumors?” K asked, making direct eye contact with Kokichi.

“Not because of the rumors! I liked you before-!” Kokichi realised his mistake a second too late, his words falling like marbles out of his mouth before his brain could pick them all up. He wished for that meteor to come as soon as it could.

“As much as I’d like to, my classmates would make my life a living hell if they found out. But really, I would totally go on a date with you otherwise. Sorry that things just suck sometimes.” K said, his sadness sounding genuine (but Kokichi didn’t believe him, not for a _second_ ).

“Yeah, just... **Forget about it**. We can just hang out.”

* * *

**“It doesn’t bother me.”**

4 years ago, rumors about him started as well. Kokichi assumed that his assumptions about how ‘genuine’ K was had been proven correct, as no one else could have started the rumor but him. Kokichi didn’t feel betrayed, just mad at himself for ever considering that a good idea. Unlike K, Kokichi was a short loudmouth and had made many enemies, so a lot of people jumped on the opportunity to bully him. K was able to get away with insults and mild isolation from the male population of his class, but Kokichi didn’t have it that easy. At least his friends stuck with him.

He found himself cornered in the locker room after their PE lesson, the last period of the day. Three dumbass meatheads from his class, the kinds of people who laugh during the sex ed classes, who catcall girls, who push the short kids over in the hallways. The kinds of people who think they’re the lion in every story. Kokichi despised those kinds of people, and refused to give them the time of day. So he stood there, casual posture and bored expression, against the wall as they glared at him.

“Hey, homo, shouldn’t your boyfriend be coming to save you?” One of them sneered, leaning in so close that Kokichi could feel his warm, wet breath on his cheek. 

_Eugh._

“Is that _really_ all you could come up with?” Kokichi asked, quirking an eyebrow. A smirk tugged at his lips as he saw the apparent leader glow red with anger.

“Who cares? It’s true, but I’m sure even if you did have a boyfriend he wouldn’t come to save a _bitch_ like you.” The one to the left of the leader said, pushing Kokichi back by his shoulder. His body hit the wall with a thud.

“Well, a couple of disgusting, brainless, rotten-smelling vats of human garbage like you guys wouldn’t understand the concept of a boyfriend, much less a girlfriend, because you’ll **never** have one.” Kokichi mused, shrugging when he felt the jabs of angry glares. 

The first hit was to his stomach.

The rest fired in a plethora of directions. Kokichi fought back a bit, but it was futile. He wasn’t weak, considering his size and stature, but this meant he was probably weaker than the average 16 year old. And fighting against three burly dudes? No chance in hell. Only one of them was able to land a very good punch to the face, but most of their painful hits were in places that were easy to hide. _That’s good_ , Kokichi thought to himself, sliding down the wall he was pressed against. _I wouldn’t want my mom worrying about me_. The only time Kokichi let out a noise, pained and gasping and terrified, was when the leader’s heel dig into his groin mercilessly.

They looked down at him with the eyes of vultures, giving him the up and down like some sort of art piece they weren’t sure if they were quite finished with yet. Kokichi realised he was trembling. He also realised they could _see_ him trembling. Was he afraid? He couldn’t be. He refused to be. He began to laugh, letting the shaking of his shoulders and hands look like their reason was much more benign. His laughing faded as he looked up at their confused expressions, but his smile stayed.

“What? Not done yet? Are you into this sort of shit or what?” Kokichi jeered, fully aware that this could earn him another beating. It was just so satisfying to see the anger on their faces as they saw that he hadn’t broken.

“We should be askin’ you the same thing. Who laughs after getting beaten up? Fuckin’ weirdo.” The leader said before landing one more kick to Kokichi’s side. He winced, but tried to turn his gasp into a chuckle.

“C’mon, let’s go.” The one who had stood on the right- and had barely even _scraped_ Kokichi- said, looking down at him with a sympathetic expression.

They left him there, picking up a conversation as if nothing had ever happened. Kokichi stood up moments later, surprised by how sore he felt already. Whatever. He was just proud of himself for not letting them get the upper hand, as those dicks tend to with their victims. He chuckled again, rinsing off his face in the sink, remembering how dumbfounded they had looked when he started laughing. It was glorious, and it made it all worth it.

But Kokichi’s hands were still shaking and his eyes were puffy with stupid tears and he felt a bit alone in the world. He looked up, wondering what those dumbasses had been seeing as they had beaten him up. All he saw was a tired kid staring back at him, one he didn’t recognize.

“It **doesn’t** bother me.”

* * *

**“I wasn’t drinking.”**

2 years ago, Kokichi was underage but had drank at a party at some douchebag’s house that was mostly made up of older, _legal_ people. He wasn’t one to give a shit about laws like that ( _but he knew his mom did_ ), especially when he could always blame his intoxication on someone else. At least he was responsible enough to know not to drive.

His friends, two boys with a penchant mischief, had egged him on. Despite Kokichi’s size, he was not a lightweight- it was his first time drinking properly, and the first beer barely had any effect on him. This revelation made Kokichi far cockier than he should have been, and he made the stupid decision to join in on a drinking game with some of the older people at the party. Needless to say, Kokichi lost and was plastered enough to go pretty wild. Specifically on the makeshift dance floor in the living room. It was embarrassing and it was the worst thing ever. His friends had to basically drag him off as everybody laughed their ass off. An inebriated Kokichi laughed with them, assuming that it was more of a ‘wow, we _love_ you’ sort of thing, rather than a ‘that was the most _pathetic_ thing in the world’ sort of thing. As his feet scraped against the hardwood floor, both his friends supporting him, he turned back and waved like the queen to the crowd of college students, guffawing at the sight of **Her Majesty Gremlin**.

Kokichi, under the influence, suspected that this might be the _Best Night He’s Ever Had_. 

He was dumped in the backseat, buckled in by a friend, and given a paper bag just in case his digestive system decided to kick in and work its magic. They took the front seats and drove him home.

“No... You dun’t have to... take... take me to house.” Kokichi mumbled, his body swinging with every jerk of the car.

“Not m’mom’s house... not there... to your... your place... dipshits...” 

Eventually, they made it to his friend’s house, the one whose parents were out of town. Kokichi scored the musty couch because they were too lazy to bring him upstairs to the bedroom. He was asleep before they even brought him inside, so it’s not like he could protest anyways.

Kokichi woke up feeling beyond sick. He opened his eyes, just a bit, before the sunlight seeping in through the windows momentarily blinded him. After adjusting to the brightness of the sun ( _had it always been that bright?_ ), he got up and began waddling over there to pull the curtains shut. He was incredibly dizzy and nauseous and sweaty and he kept tripping on his way over. He suddenly hated alcohol, and was completely confused as to why it was such a popular pastime, as he stumbled about the house like a zombie. He got himself some water, and downed the whole glass in one go. _Yeah, why would anyone choose some gross-tasting stupid juice when you can just open the tap and have water?_ , he thought.

He took a long time showering, enough to turn himself into a broth. He used up all the hot water but his friends were still asleep so he assumed it was okay. He looked like a jumbo shrimp in the mirror- his body pink from the heat of the water- but he couldn’t even muster a laugh. Even after brushing his teeth, it felt like he just couldn’t get the taste of alcohol out of his mouth- like it was spreading and rotting his gums away. He couldn’t even get himself to look like he wasn’t hungover. This sucked and everything sucked and Kokichi wanted to _die_ a bit. 

He left a note on the kitchen counter, just telling them that he was fine walking home and that if they ever tried to make him drink again he’d murder them.

Fresh air really helped, but he really didn’t want his mom to see him like this. He was stupid and pathetic and he was going to **lie** to his mom again because he didn’t want her to know that her son was a failure that broke the law. He had already got into trouble for vandalism, he didn’t want his mom to have more reason to hate him. At least he got good grades (relatively speaking).

When he cracked the back door of their house open, his mom was standing in the kitchen. She looked tired. She didn’t even give him the talk she used to give about sneaking out, because it didn’t work then so it’s not gonna work now. He could tell she had been worried about him, but in a much more mute sense than ever, tired of worrying and waiting. Kokichi wanted her to lecture him, wanted her to _yell_ , because then at least that would mean she cared enough to worry. But she was far too exhausted for that anymore, so she just sighed with relief when he came through the back door, and asked him what he had been up to.

She gave him a look that told him that she knew exactly what had happened, but he still had his integrity. He had told her this many times, so it was weird to finally say it without actually meaning it.

“Well, I **wasn’t** drinking.”

* * *

**“I don’t love him.”**

About half a year ago, Kokichi was nearing the end of his first year of college, still unsure about his major. It didn’t bug him though, because he had made three really good friends, despite all of them knowing exactly what they wanted to do. Kaito, his best frenemy (but really they were just run-of-the-mill bffs), was studying aeronautics and astronautics. Shuichi, his friend and roomie, was studying criminal justice and law enforcement. Gonta, the big dummy every friend group needs, was studying entomology and zoology. Kokichi shifted from political science to creative writing to psychology and still didn’t know what he really wanted do. 

Kokichi shared a room with Shuichi in their dorm, and- to be completely honest- it was like hell on earth. Shuichi was gorgeous- elegant and pale in that way that they write about in books, not like the pallor of Kokichi. However, he was also a _mess_. The floor of his room was covered in clothes and books, and his bed was never made. He tried to remember to do his dishes but Kokichi was usually the one who ended up cleaning them. It’s not like Kokichi minded anyways, because he liked Shuichi. He really liked Shuichi. He wasn’t sure why, though. Sure, he was pretty, but he wasn’t really Kokichi’s type in the first place. He had MDD, though he tended to brush off any of those claims and just say that he was ‘ _feeling down_ ’. That’s why Kokichi used the medical term, as it was such a prominent part of Shuichi’s life that just calling it ‘ _feeling down_ ’ made him seem weaker, like he let little things get to him. 

Despite Shuichi’s shyness and his lack of self-esteem, he was one of the strongest people Kokichi knew. Just the fact that he got out of bed everyday and decided to challenge the next day was amazing to him, because Kokichi was sure that if he had the same problem he wouldn’t be able to do it. Not that there weren’t days that Shuichi just laid in bed, but those were usually few and far-between. Kokichi tried to help him when he could.

Kokichi also felt bad that he had been a bit rude to Shuichi in the beginning, but he hadn’t scared him off. Not that he was mean, or anything, but he had done his whole ‘ _cold shoulder/am i being rude or playful?/i love lying_ ’ schtick and it really made Shuichi uncomfortable.

Anyways, Kaito decided to confront him about the whole ‘Shuichi problem’, because it had become a problem. Kokichi had become a lot more awkward around him, after he realised that maybe possibly he liked Shuichi in _that_ sort of way. To make it even better, Kokichi acting awkward wasn’t traditional stuttering and blushing, it was more like a train wreck. He was more prone to rude comments and acting like a kid, so Shuichi asked Kaito if he knew why Kokichi ‘suddenly hated him’. Kaito, being the protective dad that he was, decided to corner Kokichi about it. 

It got really uncomfortable when Kokichi started crying, probably the first real tears he’d let fall in a few years. 

Kokichi didn’t overwhelm easily, so a simple question like “Hey, do you like Shuichi?” setting him off was a bit concerning. Kaito got up to get Kokichi water, still wondering if the tears were genuine or not, while he sobbed on his couch. It was weird. When Kaito came back, he decided for some fuck all reason to try to continue the conversation.

“So... Is that a yes?” Kaito asked, sitting next to Kokichi (but with enough space to not touch, as he wasn’t sure just _how worried_ he should be about touching a sobbing Kokichi). He was surprised by how childish Kokichi looked when he cried for real. Usually, Kokichi could pass for a lot younger than he was, but anyone who knew him could definitely tell he was 19. Right now, he looked like a lost little kid, and it made Kaito feel all kinds of maternal and motherly feelings.

Kokichi choked at the question, and Kaito was glad that he had a pillow at his disposal because Kokichi shoved his face into it with such force that it could’ve caused damage had it not been soft. It was comical and Kaito stifled a sad laugh at the weird thing that was writhing around on his couch.

“Okay, pal. Just tell me why you’re crying.” Kaito said, pulling the pillow out of Kokichi’s hands. He was met with a red, puffy-eyed, wet-looking Kokichi with a frown that was so extreme that Kaito just laughed on the spot. Kokichi whacked him on the head with the pillow.

“Don’t m-,” a half-sob, “make fun of me.”

And then The Obvious hit Kaito. The Obvious was the way Kokichi stayed home when Shuichi was feeling poorly. The Obvious was the way Kokichi refused to let Shuichi put himself down. The Obvious was how concerned Kokichi was that people were going to use Shuichi. _The Obvious was the way Kokichi fucking broke down when he was asked whether he liked Shuichi_.

“Dude! You love him! You’re totally head-over-heels for him! That’s so cute!” Kaito yelled, grabbing both of Kokichi’s shoulders and shaking him back and forth like some sort of wet earthworm. Kokichi looked mortified, eyes wide and ready to unleash another wave of tears. He sputtered angrily for a bit before his lip started to tremble a bit again and his vision blurred. It was an ugly face, but because Kaito knew what was up now, he could only find it endearing.

“No, I-... I don’t love him! What would a weird uncle with a triangle goatee know anyways! Fuck off, don’t touch me!”

Kaito just laughed. He felt like he knew Kokichi a lot better after that whole conundrum.

* * *

**“Thanks for, y’know, listening.”**

“You’re welcome. Your openness is really helpful, so thank you.” Dr. Tsukawa said, flashing Kokichi a smile before looking down and flipping through the notes that he’d made. He didn’t need to make as many as he did, but there was something extremely interesting about Kokichi. He was so brutally honest and personal that Dr. Tsukawa couldn’t tell if he was actually telling him the truth. He’d have to consult with his mother and maybe his friend, Kaito, to see if he had actually given all the facts. Either way, he felt as though somehow this had been a bit of a breakthrough, and maybe Kokichi didn’t really need a therapist to help him. Maybe he just needed to talk.

Dr. Tsukawa was still going to recommend that he see a psychologist.

* * *

**“Hey, guess who went to therapy and only lied once and took it back immediately who you should be extremely proud of!”**

Kaito heard the door close behind him. He turned around in the easy chair, looking to see if the real Kokichi was standing in his doorway. And he was.

Standing there, a proud grin pushing at the corners of his mouth, was Kokichi himself. Kaito raised both his eyebrows, unable to keep himself from smiling as well. When Kokichi was actually happy, it was infectious, and Kaito wanted to congratulate him like a proud dad. Kokichi circled the easy chair, making his way to the couch and climbing up onto it. He gave Kaito a pointed look, as if he was expecting something. _C’mon, stupid, say something nice_.

“Good for you, pal. Did it go well?” Kaito asked. He was legitimately curious, as a beaming Kokichi was a rare specimen. 

“Yeah, he was really cute and sweet. Like, not to be weird about my therapist or anything, but y’know. I’m 20, I have needs.” 

Kaito didn’t know how to feel about what Kokichi just said. Was he over Shuichi? I mean, it had been over a year since his crush first surfaced, but his interest hadn’t seemed to dwindle at all. Not that it mattered, as Shuichi didn’t seem ready to commit to a relationship and Kokichi was too shy to talk about it. It was none of Kaito’s business anyways.

“I mean, he also was good at his job, but being easy on the eyes does help a lot!” He added, rolling over onto his tummy so that he could look at Kaito.

“I couldn’t agree more?” Kaito said it like it was a question, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips.

Even though they put on a tv show, Kokichi kept blabbing on. Kaito was surprised to realise he didn’t really mind.

* * *

That night, Kokichi fell asleep on Kaito’s couch (much to Rantarou, Kaito’s roomate’s, dismay). 

Kaito was prepared to move him, until he saw the little smile on Kokichi’s face. So he decided to let him stay the night.


End file.
